


A Virtue of the Brave

by smilelaughread



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Sirius Black in Azkaban
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 03:08:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4590738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smilelaughread/pseuds/smilelaughread
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forgiveness is the final form of love. Sirius and Remus must renew their friendship in the wake of their thirteen years apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thunder

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not, unfortunately, own any of the characters in the following piece of fiction. Boo.

**Thunder**

The storm roared wildly around Remus, who pulled his cloak tighter in response to the bone-chilling wind. Even worse than the cold was the rain, which fell with such force that each drop seemed to rip at his face and steal what little humanity he could still attribute to himself.

He glimpsed a soft light, finally, just over the hill and hidden in a small smattering of trees. It was a safe house, one he remembered from the first war, when they had all been so young…

He pushed the thought from his head, for it was one that usually came accompanied by pangs of regret, loneliness, and failure.

He was familiar with the landscape, though some things had changed in thirteen years.

For one, the house's occupants were different.

That time, Sirius sat in the hut that Remus was slowly approaching. Though the memories pushed at him with as much force as the booming of the thunder, threatening to deter him, he continued fiercely. His visit was long overdue.

It had been months.

Remus raised his left hand carefully and knocked twice on the heavy door. His right wand held his wand tightly; he had been in too many dangerous situations to underestimate the value of constant vigilance.

"Who's there?"

"It's me—" Remus started, somewhat foolishly. They were no longer schoolboys at Hogwarts. This was far from their dormitory in Gryffindor. Since then, it seemed a lifetime had gone by. "It's Remus."

A pause. A moment that stretched out long enough for Remus to feel the distance between them, though they were physically closer than they had been in a long time.

Then, cautiously, Sirius spoke. His voice was low. "How many pets did Peter have in sixth year?"

"Four," Remus said quickly, "because he kept forgetting to feed them."

He surprised himself with the confidence he held in his answer. He could only wonder how Sirius had a question like that immediately ready.

_Perhaps it's because he's been anticipating your visit for months_ , mocked a voice in his head. He ignored it, though the guilt refused to recede.

"May I enter?" Remus spoke carefully, though he was practically yelling over the wind and noise.

There was no verbal response, but the door opened to reveal Sirius holding a wand that was simply too long for him and looked out of place in his grip. He looked  _awkward_ , and Remus was once again struck with the image of them as lanky teenagers.

"Whose wand is that?" Remus asked, still hovering just outside the little house. It definitely wasn't Sirius', even if his memory betrayed him by refusing to recall what Sirius' wand had looked like all that time ago.

"Don't start." Sirius sounded weary, and his eyes reflected the sentiment. "This was all I could get. I… I needed something."

It hit Remus suddenly. "Safety. Yes, I understand."

Sirius had spent so many years locked up and defenceless. Of course it made sense that he would find something, even a wand that might not work for him, to give him some of that independence back.

"May I?" Remus prompted again, because the chill was sinking into his bones and biting into his blood, which seemed to circulate with little confidence. He could hardly feel his extremities. He was wind-burnt and drenched.

"Yeah." Sirius waited for just a moment too long before moving so that it didn't seem natural anymore. Remus wondered just how unwelcome he was. Then, Sirius seemed to relax minutely. "Of course you can, Moony. Of course you can."

Once inside, Remus found himself taking off his cloak with discomfort stiffening every movement. "So," he said, avoiding eye contact, "how long has it been?"

Sirius froze, just beside him, and Remus tried not to hate himself for beginning with something so aggressive. Especially when it was really his fault.

"It's been too long," he answered himself, finally making eye contact as his second boot thudded to the floor. "Far too long, and I'm truly sorry."

"Where have you been?" Sirius asked coldly. However, assuming Remus hadn't lost his knack for reading his friends, Sirius had softened in the face of the apology.

"I had some.. problems with the Ministry after what happened back at Hogwarts. I've been on the run for some time. It's been so hard to find a job, and then they started actively prosecuting me." Remus said. "Dumbledore might finally talk to the Minister—"

Remus noted that Sirius had bristled once more, and any warmth in his voice was gone when he next spoke. "You know that isn't what I meant. Sorry, why exactly did you come today? I don't appreciate you rubbing your freedom in my face. That's not why I asked you here."

Remus winced, and at exactly the same moment, the little foyer was lit up by the bright burn of lightning. It illuminated everything, painting Sirius in bright relief. He was far too tired, and the fatigue relaxed his muscles and pulled his shoulders down, creating the image of a man far older than Sirius.

He closed the door quickly, but it did not shut out the thunder that followed.

"I've missed you," Remus said truthfully. That much, at least, was simple. He tried to avoid tripping over his words. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be caught up in myself when you are the one in need of companionship. Loneliness isn't easy, I know."

"I can barely believe it's been so long," Sirius whispered, and Remus knew he wasn't just talking about the months that had passed since their last encounter. "Thirteen years. You… you look so different."

Sirius stared at him thirstily in such a way that heat rose to the back of Remus' neck. He tried not to feel attacked by the gaze and held his ground.

"You look different, too," Remus said, though his eyes were not focused on anything but the hollowness that he found in his friend's eyes.

"You're bigger," Sirius said, as though he hadn't heard Remus at all. "You're more powerful. Look at me—I'm weak and broken. What do I even have to show for the last decade and a half?"

Remus shook his head, wanting to comfort his friend but unable to allow himself to touch Sirius. He couldn't be the one to break that barrier.

"You have incredible strength," he breathed, stepping as close as his uncertain legs would allow him. "You have survived and escaped what no one has before."

Sirius looked unconvinced and, surprisingly, was the first to bow his head away from their visual connection. Remus took a moment to whisper a quick warming charm, because his teeth were beginning to chatter and he could barely contain his shivering.

"Why haven't you visited me?" Sirius asked again, tone flat, though this time the question was directed at the floor.

Remus was stuck. "I…I was on the run."

"You could have come here. You promised you'd come here."

There was a deep longing in Sirius' voice, and it resonated perfectly with the emotions Remus had been struggling with for years. He'd had a hard time accepting his status as the only remaining Marauder. Eventually, he had learned to live with the horror, nightmares, and isolation.

What he had never come to terms with was the reality that he had been friends with a murderer.

Thirteen years, he had believed it, and then his reality had once again been shaken around and muddled.

Through all that, he had felt a desire for things to go back to the way they'd been. He had never stopped missing his friends, even five years after their deaths, even ten years after trying to wrap his head around Sirius' betrayal.

Remus vowed, internally, to never allow either of them to feel so alone again. It was true that his life was littered with mistakes, but he would not make one that would cost him Sirius. Not again.

Feeling guilty and even more self-absorbed, Remus answered the question.

"I couldn't see you like this," Remus said, voice trembling. "I couldn't allow myself to forget who we used to be. Seeing you at Hogwarts was fantastic, but perhaps only because I didn't have enough time to recognize all that's changed. I can't—We're not—This isn't how it was meant to go. This meeting seemed, to me, to be a confession - a confirmation - of all the bad stuff that happened."

They stood in silence once more, though the rain was relentless and violent just outside the door. The world was out there, holding danger and lies, but it could all be forgotten by Remus Lupin for a few short moments when he saw Sirius' shoulders shake.

A tear rolled down a familiar cheek—one that he'd seen stretched and dimpled by countless smiles, one that Remus could no longer recognize as his friend's.

With a shaking hand and his heart jumping into his throat, Remus reached one hand out and wiped the tear away with great care. Sirius flinched, and Remus could only imagine what he had endured for thirteen years. The pain. The torture. The fear.

Contact was still new to him.

"Will you stay with me, Moony?" Sirius asked.

"I will stay," Remus answered with certainty, emotion thickening his voice. "I thought it would ruin everything, coming back here, but I think all it does is give me more reason to fight. We will win, Sirius. Your sacrifices will not be worthless, I  _swear_  to you."

They were so far from the mischievous children they'd once been, and had even evolved past their days as soldiers fighting a war. They were aged beyond ordinary description, hovering somewhere between life and death.

"How have you been, Moony?" Sirius asked, eyes hungry for knowledge. "I have spent so long away from everyone. I've even been reading the papers, though they are just as boring."

The corner of Remus' mouth twitched, as though the muscles had only the faintest glimmer of a memory to guide them into a smile.

"I'm all right. My transformations take a lot from me, but I've survived."

Sirius' face twisted into a scowl. "Why us?"

Remus knew what Sirius meant. _Why are we the only ones left? How are we the strong ones? Where did everyone go? How much longer until the end?_

"Because we are the good ones. We have suffered, are suffering, and will suffer for everyone else." Remus' hands curled into fists. "We are the ones who will do unspeakable things—the ones who will be feared until our side wins and we are finally celebrated as heroes. But we  _will_  win. Perhaps after we die, but that's not the most important thing."

"Merlin," Sirius said, though there was a flush to his cheeks that suggested life was returning to them. "You always were a bit of a martyr."

"And we always were the best at what we did."

Remus felt a slow burn down his back and felt the effects of the previous night's transformation with more severity than he'd been experiencing to that point. He shook the pain off, though it was foolish to hide anything from Sirius Black—best friend and most valuable support in the world… at least he had been.

"You missed five full moons," Sirius reminded, his eyes carefully inspecting Remus. "Five months since I saw you. I've been counting. Five extra lonely transformations when you could have had my help."

"And I will not miss another," Remus responded. "Not when I finally have Padfoot to help me. It's been hell without the potion." His voice cracked, though he felt no embarrassment at his weakness.

"We can go exploring, like old times. We'll find some distractions," Sirius suggested, though his tone was hesitant. He expected rejection.

"Please," came Remus' plea.

Just as intensely, he continued, "Tell me, Sirius, can we ever be friends again? You must know I thought the worst of you for years, and that I thought of the most horrid things I could do to you. You must know I wanted revenge. In the same way, I know what you must think of me—I'm still free, I can work, I can see Harry, I lived in peace after the war, and I will never know what you endured…"

Sirius suddenly grasped Remus' forearm in a tight grip, though his arms and muscles were thin and his fingers were bony. Remus bit down on a gasp at the pressure.

"We must be friends again."

Remus felt a painful twinge of relief pass through him, and hardly hesitated before wrapping his arms around Sirius.

"We promised each other we'd win the war, didn't we?" Sirius continued. "I forgive you for doubting me, if you'll forgive me in return. That's the only way we can do this—the only way we can start afresh."

Remus could not stop the laughter that rose from his lips. He would never be able to explain to another person just how complete he felt with Sirius in his arms, with promises of old days, and with forgiveness given freely. In another sense, he knew that the man in his grasp was not the one that had grown up beside him, just as he had also been changed by the years.

They had a lot to relearn, but Remus promised himself—promised them—long years to do just that. They released each other with twin reluctance, first detaching their bodies. Their hands lingered, touching at various points, and then finally Sirius withdrew his arms. Remus frowned at the loss of contact, but accepted that Sirius thought they'd been touching for long enough.

That was one boundary that Remus would definitely respect.

He was shocked from his thoughts by Sirius' next words.

"You're shaking, Moony." He spoke quickly, with more urgency and worry than Remus could comprehend without pleasure sparking in his chest. It finally occurred to him that his charm had worn off and that he was extremely cold. "Follow me to the sitting room. You're just as irresponsible as before."

Remus couldn't help the amusement he felt. Who was scolding him for negligence? Could it be—Sirius Black, master of reckless behaviour?

While he was distracted, Sirius kept talking. He took Remus by the hand and hauled him forward, into the house. "I'll tend to the fire so you don't freeze to death. You should have said something. Merlin!"

Perhaps it all would be okay, Remus hoped, taking fumbling steps behind Sirius.


	2. Loss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: *checks* Nope, sorry, I still don't own it.

**Loss**

A large, warm fire crackled in the fireplace, its glow radiating out to light Sirius' face with a delicacy that he probably didn't realize, but one of which Remus was hyper-aware. His fingers curled around the warm mug of tea in his grasp. Sirius had been fussing so much that he would have made Molly Weasley beam with pride.

"Are you sure you're warm enough?" Sirius asked for the umpteenth time. He was wringing his hands and a very concerned expression flickered over his face. That, coupled with the way he continuously fidgeted and shifted his weight made his uncertainty come through. His behaviour evoked Remus' deep gratitude along with the curious realization that Sirius probably had no clue what he was doing past the desire to have Remus well.

"I'm fine, Sirius," Remus said. "I'm just tired."

"You will stay the night, won't you?"

"I promised I wouldn't leave, and I don't want to," Remus assured. He took a sip from the tea, recoiling when the scalding liquid burned his tongue. A few more minutes should do it.

Something hit the wall beside him with a dull thump. Remus jumped, wand out of his sleeve in a flash. There was a pile on the ground, where the thing had fallen unceremoniously. Sirius also had his wand in hand, but Remus realized that he was the one who had  _accio_ d the thing in the first place.

"A blanket." Sirius said by way of explanation. He looked sheepish. "Sorry, I'm still rusty with this wand."

Remus wanted to roll his eyes, but there was a warmth in his belly at the attention Sirius was paying to him.

"I don't need any more blankets," Remus said, even while he accepted the coddling that Sirius was subjecting him to. The third blanket was tucked in under his arms, just as the previous two had been, and Remus felt like a baby. It was a surprisingly relaxing situation.

"Sit with me," Remus urged, once Sirius seemed content with his work. "I promise I'll be fine. I have tea, blankets, and your dazzling company."

The air between them was still thirteen years stale, but they were slowly warming up to conversation. They were throwing mild jokes back and forth, and it seemed all too easy to fall into old—very old—habits.

"What more could you want?" Sirius added with a smirk. Finally, he took a seat on the sofa. He was just out of Remus' reach.

"Exactly my point," Remus said, and he took his chances with the tea. He could feel Sirius' intense gaze on his jaw as he took a too-large gulp, but he hardly felt it slide down his throat. He was so focused on Sirius, whose presence seemed to buzz beside him. Remus felt an inexplicable heat—unrelated to the physical properties of the tea—rise in response to the attention.

"Did you really miss me?"

Remus' eyebrows flew to his hairline. Guileless, he said, "Of course! I used to dream and dream about seeing you again."

"I never had any dreams," Sirius admitted. "I barely even slept."

Remus took another sip of his tea, suddenly feeling the burn when he swallowed. He shook his head sharply in discomfort, so as to diffuse the pain, but it didn't quite work.

"Do you dream now?" Remus finally asked. His voice was hoarse and scratchy.

"Nightmares." A shadow fell across Sirius' face, presumably with memories of Azkaban. "What about the rest of them? Do you dream about them?"

Remus shrugged, trying not to feel the pain of reopened wounds. "I dream about Lily and James sometimes, but not as much as I dreamt of you. Somehow, though I hated you for so long, I couldn't get rid of your memory."

Sirius nodded, pensive. Then, with a funny look on his face, he asked, "Do you think Harry is going to be like James?"

"I think he's different in all the important ways," Remus answered. "But when I first saw him… Padfoot, it was torture. He didn't know who I was, but I couldn't forget who he was. From the hair to the walk to the arrogance, he was James."

Sirius shifted, suddenly very close to Remus. So close that Remus could feel the other man's breath on his collarbone.

"Do you think he might come to live with me? I've missed so much, but James would've—"

"It's dangerous to start thinking in what they would have liked," Remus said. "I—I spent thirteen years wondering where he was and whether he needed me. It's hard to accept that he might not want our help, but he didn't know us like we knew James, Lily, and him."

Sirius didn't answer, and Remus knew that he was sticking to his opinions.

"James would have been proud of you, though," Remus continued. "Undoubtedly. You're spectacular."

Sirius grinned at him, just for a moment, and then, abruptly, his face fell. Remus felt some movement around the blankets, and then felt cool toes pressing into his calf.

His toes curled happily in the privacy of the blanket.

"And he would have been proud of you, Moony. You're the best of us all."

Remus blushed, though he felt regret bubble up inside him, despite the compliment. He hadn't done everything right, not even most things. Saying anything but that he was a failure would be a stretch of the truth. Even after thirteen years.

"They were such a happy family." Sirius' tone was full of grief, suddenly, and Remus realized that Sirius had never truly mourned their friends, not like he had. Sirius had immediately been put to suffer, deprived of information, and completely cut off from comfort. He'd been stripped of all humanity.

"We were all so happy, though we were too young to realize it."

"It's so bittersweet, now." Sirius mused.

"At least we're not alone," Remus said.

"Not anymore."

Remus felt the pressure on his calf increase as Sirius wiggled his toes and found that he was too tired to bite down on a light laugh. It tickled.

A gulp. "Will they ever know that I didn't kill them?"

Remus looked at him and moved his leg closer to Sirius, wrapping their ankles together. "One day," he promised.

"I thought it was bad in Azkaban, but it isn't that much better outside of there when everyone still thinks I was the reason my best friends were killed."

Remus leaned to the right, pressing his side into Sirius' for physical comfort. There was a spark, like they were conducting electricity, but he stayed there regardless of the ache it summoned.

"Everyone believed it," Remus said, "and that was probably the worst part. I'm so sorry. None of us knew—He cut off his pinky! It was insanity."

Sirius ignored the apology. "Should we have known he would do it?"

Remus allowed himself to throw his mind back to their Hogwarts years. He remembered countless pranks, ranging from harmless to untested and explosive… He remembered late nights, hangovers, rushed assignments, friendship, warmth, and love.

"I don't think any of us could have seen it. James and Lily… they were caught up with Harry. We all were, cute baby that he was. And with all the fighting going on, we welcomed distractions—"

He signed as Sirius slumped into him.

"I should have known," Sirius said

"I've gone over it a million times," Remus said, "and it's never done me any good to hate myself for losing them. There's nothing I can change now."  _But I can regret it._

"He killed them. Have they found him? Will he be put on trial?" There was an eagerness in Sirius' voice, a frantic energy that permeated through his tone.

Remus shook his head. "We can't find Peter, at least as far as I know. The two of us, we had our chance, maybe, back in the Shack, but then Harry mixed himself into the problem."

"Typical Potter." they said in unison, though neither accompanied the cynicism with so much as a wry twist of the lips.

"We lost so much," Sirius whispered, and Remus felt the weight of their conversation deep in his stomach. He felt the guilt anew, and he knew that though Sirius might forgive him, he would probably never be able to forgive himself.

A sharp intake of breath was the only indication to Remus that Sirius felt his hand curl tight around Sirius' own, but he felt a returning squeeze and it felt like happiness and safety.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Remus might have been good at recognizing emotions on his friend's face, but this one was wholly new. It was a mixture of, as far as he could see, some kind of nervousness trying to be masked by neutrality. Sirius' lips parted for a few seconds, and he seemed to flounder in the moments before sharing what was on his mind.

Inexplicably, the pause gave way to a rush of words, like time had been frozen and then sped up. Remus could hardly catch the words, but read the sentiment in the tension he felt in the body leaning against him.

"I need—Merlin—Wow, I never—Remus, I didn't ask… It's been so long, but perhaps—Are you…? Is there—" A breath. "Are you married? Do you have kids? I—I've missed so much. I would've been—I could've been here—"

Remus heart broke with sudden empathy, realizing all the little moments in life that Sirius had missed in the thirteen years that felt like a lie, because surely it couldn't have been so long. He felt his throat constrict and all but forced himself to be cool enough to take another sip of tea.

He choked. Chest seizing with effort to push the liquid from his lungs, he felt the hot tea spill onto the blankets. Luckily, he idly noted, the triple layer meant that he remained dry.

With one last cough to clear his throat, Remus apologized quietly, whispering a spell to dry the covers. Sirius was looking at him, panic stricken, when Remus next glanced over.

"Are you determined to die in front of me?" Sirius whispered. "First the cold, now this?"

Remus shook his head and repeated himself, "Sorry."

"So that's it, then?"

Confusion. "What's what?"

Sirius pulled away from him, just slightly. They were very subtle changes, but after the noticeable, constant pressure, any variation sent warnings to Remus' brain. He wanted to follow the heat. He stayed in place.

"You're married and you don't want to tell me. Who is she?" Sirius seemed unable to continue, having spit out his words.

Suddenly, the air between them seemed thick with sexual charge. There was frustration, anger, and loss mixed in, giving the longing a very bitter taste.

"There's no one," Remus said, almost too gleeful when Sirius seemed to deflate, despite the admission. There was a flash of relief in Sirius, manifesting itself as a gradual increase in pressure again when Sirius collapsed back against Remus. "I lost all my desire and willpower. There have been a few… encounters, if you care about the details, but no, I'm not married. And I won't ever be married. I'm a monster. If there was anyone who could love me, they're dead or I can't bear to hurt them or both."

"Shit."

Remus couldn't help but agree.

"Will we ever talk about anything normal?" Remus voice was a whisper, a plea that had been squeezed to nothing by desperation.

"I think normal lost its meaning when we started losing everything else." Sirius said, all too truthfully.

It had all been so quick. Seventh year. School had begun being unpredictable. There had been danger all around them. And then the deaths. They had adapted, but the war had never been normal to any of them. Remus pitied, but also envied, the children who had innocently grown up with the war, the ones who hadn't fought as hard as they had.

"We'll do them proud," Remus vowed. Sirius toes brushed against the side of his foot once, urging him on. Remus felt a little piece of him that he had thought lost forever return to him. "We may have lost them physically, but we'll fight and win for them."

"We have to forgive the situation, our youth, and their deaths, but we'll remember that the wise forgive but never forget."

Remus paused, raising one eyebrow. "Read lots of books in Azkaban, did you? That was almost poetic."

"Piss off."

Normal was changing every day, but Remus was glad for a taste of their past selves to satisfy his ravenous nostalgia.

Somehow still in sync with Remus' thoughts, Sirius' stomach growled just then. It was almost loud enough to rival the crash of the thunder that followed. Sirius' face reddened as he stood, and he looked almost like a boy again, though his face was far gaunter and his flush was mottled, borderline unhealthy.

"I haven't eaten since this morning," he admitted. "If you're up to it, Moony, would you join me in the kitchen?"

Remus, throwing himself into the joke, winked. "You did always know that the way to my heart was through my stomach."

He was surprised, then, to see that Sirius stiffened, flushed an even deeper scarlet, and mumbled something unintelligible.

"Sorry, what was that?" Had he gone too far?

"And you always did know to always say yes," Sirius whispered, and turned the shock onto Remus when he grinned from ear to ear and gave a salacious wink.

The tips of Remus' ears burned with a blush, but it didn't stop him from jumping up and running past Sirius to the kitchen. He clipped Sirius' shoulder with his own, laughing despite himself, and then stopped a few paces away.

He had a strong desire to demand a race, but then thought, childishly, of the next part to the joke:  _you always did come first_. Another laugh escaped him, the sound adding to the warmth created by the fire.

He was shocked with the effects of being around Sirius. He'd found a childish part in himself that he hadn't thought he could recover and felt weight lift off his shoulders with his newfound determination to honour James and Lily, rather than mourn their loss.

He had Harry to protect.

With one look at Sirius' bewildered, confused face—innocent like a child's, with a tiny smile lighting up his features—he realized one more very important thing. In a flash, he recalled the  _animagus_  experiments and the help he'd received with the support of his friends.

Now, in return, he finally had a chance to protect Sirius.


	3. Youth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything you'd recognize.

**Youth**

As they sat down, each with sad-looking plates that were about half-filled with food, Remus was struck with the situation's similarity to one that had transpired years earlier, in the prime of their youth. It was in that very moment that he made a very serious decision. If he went through with what he wanted to say, one of many things he had regretted might finally be resolved.

So far, the night had gone fairly well. They'd covered some painful topics, were still wary around one another, but if the heat that had been building inside Remus was any indication, their connection had not been lost over the years.

He observed Sirius, allowing himself some freedom from scrutiny for a few seconds.

Sirius, then like that one night at Hogwarts, was chewing sadly and silently, his eyes fixed on the table's surface. His left hand was in his lap while he lifted a fork to his lips with the other in automatic motions. With his shoulders hunched forward, he looked like a child, thin and frail. There was something in the set of his eyebrows and the tension in his muscles that belayed that youth.

* * *

_Sirius sat in the Hogwarts kitchens, a plate of sweets in front of him. His head hung forward, held up by his left hand. His right was bringing food to his mouth, but the blank stare that Remus could see from his vantage point showed no enjoyment or acknowledgment of the food. Stress seemed to have overtaken Sirius, lining his forehead with wrinkles, leaving his skin flushed._

_"Hey," he called out. No reaction. "James didn't mean what he said. He wants to apologize."_

_"He should have come to see me himself."_

_"You know how he is. What did you tell him? He's very upset."  
_

* * *

He'd been a mediator in a tough, seemingly-impossible dispute between James and Sirius. He hadn't known what the problem was. He hadn't been able to resist seeking Sirius out. Fourteen years later, he was sitting across from Sirius with a confession on his lips.

It was time, years later, for his turn at an apology. Different reasons, same nervous fear.

"I'm sorry," Remus said, and watched Sirius slowly shake himself and straighten his back. Their eyes met. Remus' quickly moved to observe the room around them. There was nothing interesting to see, nothing that was comparable to Sirius. The kitchen was almost bare, nothing moved, and there was a heavy energy to the air around them.

"What for?"

"For lying by omission for many, many years. For missing my chance."

* * *

_"I told him the truth. I told him my parents disowned me."_

_"What? Why? I had no idea!"_

_"It happened because I told James - and them, once they read my mail - I'm gay. I was angry, it was rash, but now it's over. James has barely been speaking to me all this year, and now we had a fight. Nothing important."_

_Remus struggled to put together that information with the Sirius he'd known until that point. Gay. The word refused to leave him._

_"What about all the girls-"_

_"You're just as bad as he is. I should never have mentioned it."_

_"Why didn't you tell us earlier? We could have helped." Remus crossed the distance that separated them, placing one hand on Sirius' shoulder. He was shrugged away with a stiff motion, and stepped back. Perhaps it was not the time for comfort._

_"Because I knew what you guys would say. I knew what my parents would do if they found out. I knew how much I was risking by continuing to so much as think about it. I knew that if it ever came out, there would be no mercy. Not from my friends, not from my family, and certainly not from strangers. I don't need that in my life."_

_He'd trusted James with the secret before Remus, and James had thrown it back in Sirius' face. Remus was determined not to do the same._

_"Did James - did he call you a -"_

_Sirius nodded._

* * *

"First, I'm sorry you can't leave the house," Remus began. It was the first apology among many, though Sirius had already said that Remus was forgiven. "I know what it feels like to be trapped like this."

"It feels like I'm being hunted, even in here," Sirius said, voice wavering. "I never thought it could be this bad. I have food, I have a house, and I don't have those bloody dementors around me, but somehow I still manage to be ungrateful."

Remus saw traces of the boy he'd known in this man that sat before him. Sirius had never been one to realize his wrongdoings in the moment, but he had always had a knack for always finding himself at fault when things occasionally went wrong.

"You're not ungrateful. You  _do_  deserve better after everything." Remus didn't know if Sirius would know what he meant, but he continued carefully. "I'm glad you're back. In more ways than one. I'm guilty of a lot of things, but I don't want to be guilty by not telling you this. I missed an opportunity years ago, and it's been suffocating me. I have to let go of one little secret."

* * *

_"I can't believe he said that!" Remus felt like he was slowly imploding. He wanted to tear James' face off. What happened to friends supporting one another?_

_James constantly spouted garbage about being a team - what was he doing calling Sirius slurs? Where did he get off on being such a horrible friend?_

_"I deserve it," Sirius said, and Remus felt his anger turn to Sirius._

_"That's preposterous. You deserve to be happy, regardless of who does that for you."_

_There had been a slight niggling guilt at the back of his head. Something he was leaving out._

_Sirius shrugged. "It's all hopeless anyway."_

_"You have me," Remus promised. "I love you, Padfoot. I couldn't live without you. Don't you dare leave us over something that bastard said."_

_Sirius looked at him with so much hope and wonder that Remus could have burst, except for the creeping dread that he felt. He had said it, but he was sure Sirius would never take it the way he'd meant it. He felt his blood pressure rise as his mouth and throat dried out. The silence that surrounded them in the few moments stretched out eternally, and Remus thought he might faint._

_Too much at once._

_Unadulterated amazement shone through Sirius' next words. "You'll stay with me?"_

* * *

Remus felt the weight of everything he wanted to say and only barely squeezed the words out of his mouth. They stuck to his tongue, reluctant to be laid bare in the plain beige room in front of Sirius Black.

"I love you."

Sirius choked on his food. He coughed sharply and then blinked the tears that had risen away. "What?"

"I was thinking of that night that you told me you're gay. I made a mistake not telling you right then. There was always a feeling inside me that agreed with what you said about boys - although, never boys in general, just you. Girls are fantastic, but you were my fantasy."

"You-"

"I  _missed_  you so much. I almost died without you by my side. I thought you'd killed our best friends, but that meant nothing when I couldn't stop dreaming about you. I can't bear not to have you know when you're finally  _right here_. I love you."

Sirius was shaking his head. Remus' heart felt like it was breaking - shattering.

* * *

_"Of course I'll stay with you," Remus promised. "Through everything we've endured, you were always my first and best friend. There's nothing you could do that would change that."_

_Sirius stood, actions rough with emotion, and pulled Remus close in a hug._

_Remus shut his eyes, wrapping his hands around Sirius in return. He squeezed, rocking slightly, and resisted the buzzing in his body that told him that he shouldn't just leave it at the hug. He wanted to shout when the contact seemed to be ending. He felt Sirius wipe at something behind his back - possibly a tear - and then the warmth against him was receding._

_"Thank you, Moony." Sirius whispered, eyes bright but bloodshot._

_They stood there in that half-embrace for long moments. Faces just centimetres apart, it would have been easy for Remus. There was a thick, almost tangible pull that he felt. All he'd have to do was tilt his chin up and inch slightly closer. Sirius would never even notice it._

_He couldn't do it._

* * *

"Believe me," Remus pleaded, "I tried to ignore it, but the feelings have never gone away. It's always been you."

"You never said anything."

"How could I have? It was a risk that I wasn't brave enough to take. You've forgotten that I'm a werewolf - I'm nothing anyone, especially not you, wants."

Sirius, who'd stood to walk around the table, towered over Remus. There was a crazed, heated look in his eyes, though his expression remained blank. Remus felt his stomach flip, and he was glad that he hadn't eaten any of the food Sirius had served him.

"Try me." Sirius voice was little more than a growl.

Hands grabbed the front of his robes, and Remus felt himself being hauled to his feet. He felt years of confusion and uncertainty melt away when he stood, immobile, before Sirius in those last few moments. Time stopped, past and present melded, and it felt like the thirteen years separating them from youth had been just a nightmare. He felt like Sirius knew how to put them back together.

With impossibly slow movements, their lips met. Though it had seemed slow, the kiss was rough and hard. Teeth hit soft skin, and Remus thought Sirius might have drawn blood in the fervour.

"I'm sorry I never told you," Remus whispered into the kiss. "Maybe things would have been different. Maybe I could-"

"Shut up."

The next kiss was softer, one long overdue. It was full of passion and longing, aged like a good wine. Their lips met, moving in tandem as though they had years of practice. Their hands moved swiftly. Feeling Sirius pressed up against him brought a heady feeling, and Remus increased their pace. Sirius pushed Remus' hair back and away from their faces, sucking one of Remus' lips in at the same time.

Remus heard his heart beating in his ears and wrapped his arms more securely around Sirius. The gentle bite to his lip, followed by the soothing run of Sirius' tongue over the spot made fireworks explode behind his eyelids. It was silent in the room except for the obscene sounds of their kissing.

There was something liberating about the abandon that went into it. It was therapeutic; apology and forgiveness were rolled into one experience. It was a promise in the present, bringing a fuzzy possible future, but also a reminder of their past. It was a closeness that had pained Remus whenever he'd imagined it.

Unlike every time he'd pictured the moment, this one was real and it was  _magical._


End file.
